The Almost Hero
by AmayaSora
Summary: "And so Draco Malfoy wrenched his arm out of his mother's grip and half-turned to dissolve into the black, smoky form that the Dark Lord's version of Apparition-flying made him." HPDM. Oneshot, part of TTMW series.


**Hello dear readers! This is part of my Alternative Battle series, Those That Move the World. More information can be found on my profile, but there isn't any background information or anything you need to know. **

**This is an AU version of the final battle as depicted in the movie **_**Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2.**_

**Warning: This is a Drarry fic. Harry/Draco slash. So, if you don't like that, you should go read something else.**

_**DISCLAIMER**_**: I don't own Draco, Harry, or any other part of JKR's wonderful Potter universe. I don't make any money off of this; I write only for the love of the series and the craft.**

The Almost Hero

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to get his wand back from Potter with no trouble whatsoever. His back-up was supposed to cooperate; certainly Goyle wasn't supposed to use the dreadful Fiendfyre spell when he had no idea how to control it. There wasn't supposed to be danger (beyond the normal hazards of battle, anyway). Potter wasn't supposed to save him.

Above all, Potter wasn't supposed to die.

Draco wished Goyle hadn't died either, of course, but the possibility of some of his friends or family members losing their lives had been at the forefront of his mind for the past year or more, giving him time to adjust. But Potter- he was the Boy-Who-_Lived_, not died. With everything the man had gone through and survived, it had never even occurred to Draco that he might, well, not. Especially since Draco had begun wishing, even _hoping_, that Potter would prevail. Draco had had more than enough experience as a Death Eater to tell him that life under the Dark Lord's rule wouldn't be pleasant for anybody.

And yet, without Potter, what hope did the Light side have? Without Potter, who could beat the Dark Lord? And so, Draco had heeded his mother's call and crossed the aisle to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. Even though he knew it was wrong- especially after the mockery of a hug the Dark Lord had deigned to bestow; just standing with the heroes as an outsider had felt warmer and more welcoming- Draco was a coward. He couldn't even deny it anymore. Maybe for Harry, he could have found something within himself, like he had at the Manor, and been openly defiant, could have remained where he was, but without Harry- well. Draco had made his choice, hating it the whole way, but at least his family was together.

But for how long? They had lost favor with the Dark Lord, and it was only a matter of time before his mercy ran out, before Draco's lie of omission at the Manor was discovered. Hopefully he'd have enough time before then to score some more points, build up some credit, prolong the inevitable.

There was also that speech that Longbottom gave about how Harry's heart beat for others; it had _really_ given Draco a lot to think about. It had never been as clear to Draco as it was at that moment how he really felt about the Chosen One, because Longbottom was exactly right. Harry _did_ love fiercely, unashamedly, powerfully. And it truly was his greatest strength; Draco himself knew firsthand what such love could allow a person to do. Draco wished that he could agree with Longbottom about Harry living in his heart, too. But the man deserved much better accommodations than the heart of a coward... And Draco rather doubted that Harry would want to be in his heart in any way, regardless.

Draco was so preoccupied with these thoughts and other, similarly depressing ones that he barely noticed his mother pulling him along, towards the bridge and the edge of the grounds. Only a sharp yank to avoid a pile of rubble jerked him out of his reverie; Mother never behaved in such an uncouth manner. Draco turned back to the castle and was shocked to see flashes of color flying pell-mell as the battle recommenced. Everything had happened so quickly and he had been so much in shock that he missed the event that triggered the renewed fighting.

"Mother, what-"

"Hush, Draco, we're almost past the wards," she said tersely. "If your father needs to satisfy his curiosity that's one thing, but I'll not have you harmed as a result. Not after everything I've done to secure your safety."

The grim tone of her last sentence scared Draco even more. "Wh-what have you done?"

"Nothing you wouldn't have, dear heart."

"I don't under-"

"Lucius, for Salazar's sake!" she screeched in a most undignified manner as Lucius came pelting down the path to join them.

"It's a full-scale battle, Cissa. They're fighting even harder than before."

"Of course they are; those hero type always find some hidden reserves of courage in the final hour."

"Yes..." Lucius said, glancing uncertainly over his shoulder once more. "Narcissa, oughtn't we to rejoin the battle?" For the first time she broke stride, to glare fiercely at him, so he hastily amended, "N-not on the Dark Lord's side! We would fight for the Light, and when our change of heart is noticed perhaps it will inspire leniency after-"

"No." Her voice was firm and she resumed walking. "It is a miracle we've all lasted this long as it is. It is too dangerous to return. And furthermore, my actions in the forest have assured Potter's goodwill; the rest will follow his example."

Now Draco was immeasurably confused. What had happened in the forest? What had Mother done? And most importantly, why was she speaking as if Potter wasn't dead? He tried again for answers. "Mo-"

"I said, _enough_, Draco! I will explain when we return to the Manor."

"No." Draco planted his feet and refused to move. "You will answer me now!"

Narcissa was outraged. "That is no way to speak to your mother!"

But Lucius cut across her reprimand. The look on his face was one Draco hadn't seen in many many years- pride. And in _him_, to boot. "Your mother lied to the Dark Lord after she went to check Potter's body."

"So, Potter- he's alive?"

"Yes," said Narcissa simply.

When asked later, Draco would be utterly unable to say what had come over him. He had certainly never acted like that before, never been whole-heartedly convinced that something was the right course of action; he'd always had doubts in the past. He tried to chalk it up to the life debt and his natural desire to repay it, but eventually, thanks to Harry, he would come to realize that it was all him. Draco had long been fed up with being what other people expected him to be, and only almost meeting their expectations: almost evil yet almost a hero, almost top of the class, almost good enough for his father. It meant he was _almost_ living. He needed to do something for himself, something no one, except for himself, expected him to do. No more almost.

And so Draco Malfoy wrenched his arm out of his mother's grip and half-turned to dissolve into the black, smoky form that the Dark Lord's version of Apparition-flying made him. Heedless of his mother's frantic cries, he pelted towards the castle, intent on helping in any way he could.

He shot up and around to the east end of the school and the isolated turret from which some sporadic flashes and bangs emanated. Draco wasn't entirely sure why he went there, only that it was the direction in which he was meant to head. His heart nearly stopped when he saw, with petrifying clarity, Harry grab the Dark Lord by the shoulders and launch both himself and Voldemort off of the tower.

Draco darted after them, urging himself faster than he thought possible, wild terror gripping him. Up ahead, Harry and the Dark Lord were grappling in mid-air as they careened this way and that.

Suddenly it was over. They shot upwards; Voldemort had gained control and now twisted free of Harry's grasp, spiraling away. But Harry was in free-fall, unable to control it, because the Light Side either couldn't do the modified Apparition or had neglected to teach Harry the skill. He seemed to have forgotten about his wand in the confusion, too, because his arms were pinwheeling wildly.

Without further thought Draco shot forward and caught Harry in his arms, ignoring the tremendous jolt, and pulled him snug against his chest. There was no way he was letting go. Harry began to kick and squirm, at which Draco yelled, "Don't worry! Don't worry, I've got you!"

"_Malfoy?" _Harry gasped, shocked into stillness. And good thing, too, because at that moment a hex was shot at them from below, and Draco had to tuck his head in and roll to avoid getting hit.

It was eerily similar to the scene in the Room of Requirement earlier that evening; Draco's arms wrapped around Harry as they ducked and wove around obstacles. But this time Draco was steering; he was in control. Moreover, he had consciously chosen to do this, rather than just accept what came his way. Now, they were equals, both contributing to their successful escape. Draco would respond to Harry's subtle shifting to indicate his preferred course, and Harry would lean into the turns to help avoid the statues and turrets. Sometimes Draco would whisper along with some of Harry's spells, lending him power. And so they took out several Death Eaters together.

It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord realized that, once again, Harry wasn't dead when he was supposed to be. Harry seemed to recognize this too, because he said, "Let's find a place to land."

Draco gladly obliged, slipping in through a gaping hole in the wall of the castle. He carefully touched down and steadied Harry by pulling him still tighter against his chest.

For a few second, neither moved. Harry fit comfortably against Draco, hands wrapped around his back and head resting on his shoulder as they caught their breath. Eventually, the brunet whispered, "I knew you had it in you, Draco."

"I didn't."

"Surely you suspected," Harry said teasingly.

At that moment a terrible scream split the air: Voldemort had landed and seen something that enraged him. Instantly Harry sprang away and shifted his grip on his wand- Draco would gladly let him keep it. He met Draco's eyes with a look of grim determination. The blond nodded. "Go get him... Harry."

He smiled tightly, grimly, and half-stepped away. Then, so fast Draco wasn't entirely sure he hadn't imagined it, Harry lurched forward to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Next second, he was at arm's length. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you soon."

With that, Harry Potter went off to confront his destiny, leaving Draco staring after him, fingers ghosting over his lips.

A half-hour or so later, Draco found himself corralled in a small hallway near the kitchens with the other Death Eaters who had been captured. Of course nobody had seen what he had done with Harry, and he didn't bother to explain. It wasn't as if anyone would believe him, and he hadn't seen Harry since the man had disappeared in the throng of celebrating survivors. Draco had been found resting behind a pillar shortly thereafter and taken here.

Something was happening on the other side of the door. Draco could discern muffled voices, getting louder and louder until, to his amazement, Draco heard a familiar voice boom, "I don't care what he's got where! Get him out of there right _now_!" The Hufflepuff guard opened the door, wand at the ready. "Malfoy. Out."

Draco hastened to obey, and Harry grabbed his arm to help pull him out the door. "Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No. Only shaken."

"Thank Merlin..." He glanced over at the guard. "Er, thanks, Ernie. I've got it."

Ernie nodded, confusion evident, but Harry took no notice. Instead he led Draco down a few corridors to a relatively debris-free one.

Draco had no idea what to say, but as Harry didn't seem inclined to speak any time soon he figured he must. "Well, ah, I guess congratulations are in order," he ventured.

"Not you too... it was a group effort, it really was. Ron and Hermione, Neville and Luna, Remus, Tonks, Fred... they all deserve it more than me."

They lapsed into another uncomfortable silence. Finally, Draco could take it no longer and blurted, "Why did you kiss me?"

Harry looked up shyly, bright red. "I... don't really know. I was -_am-_ so proud of you for changing sides, and you'd just saved my life... but, really, I guess it just felt like the right thing to do. I-I'm really sorry if it was too forward or anything, or, um, if I offended you at all. I really do need to think before I act sometimes, and-" Draco leaned forward to capture Harry's lips in a sweet kiss.

"Er- what was that for?" the brunet mumbled.

"To shut you up," Draco replied easily.

Harry shoved him lightly but the next second reached out to grasp Draco's hand and intertwine their fingers. "Guess this answers a bunch of my questions," he said. "Like why you didn't tell Bellatrix who I was, and why you couldn't kill me earlier in the Room of Requirement."

"And my own question, why you bothered to save me in the first place."

"Yeah, guess so... blimey. Ginny's going to be so angry."

"Harry- Potter. If you want to- that is, I never expected anything at all to come of this, so it's very understandable if you find that you'd be happier with Weasley. No hard feelings."

Harry smiled softly. "You really are daft sometimes."

"I- what?" Draco was too stunned to even feel ashamed of his lack of eloquence.

"I obviously can't promise much- I mean, I don't really know you at all, nor you me, even if we have saved each other's lives, but, this... it feels okay, you know? Special. And so I'll give it a chance."

"I... that's... you're sure?"

Harry laughed. "Yes I'm sure." And he proved it by leaning up for another, deeper kiss. Draco was still very much shocked and unable to really respond properly, so Harry pulled back far too quickly. "Are you okay with that?"

"Well, yes, obviously- it's fantastic. I just... I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around it, to be honest. You- you really want me?"

"Yes."

"After all I've done to you? Your friends? After all my family, collectively, has done? I don't... bad guys don't get happy endings," he finished bitterly.

"Draco," said Harry tenderly. "Look at me. Someone once told me that the world isn't just good people and Death Eaters. We all have both light and dark inside us. It's just a matter of choosing which to act on. I don't think you're a bad guy, Draco. And especially not today. Today, you are a hero."

Never had Draco considered the possibility before. If he thought about it, he had done some relatively heroic things- okay, with one very much heroic thing. But one day didn't just make him a hero... His mother's words came back to him: _those hero type always find some hidden reserves of courage in the final hour. _Hadn't he done that? Not just today, with saving Harry, but in the past? When his parents' lives were threatened, when he had almost failed, he had found the courage to work past his fear and complete the repairs on the cabinet. And he overcame his terror to stand in front of Dumbledore that night on the Tower...

And Harry. The Potter definition of a hero appeared to be someone who acted selflessly, out of love, to judge by his list of people deserving honors. Everything Draco had done during the war had been because of love, rather love for his family or for Harry. Maybe... just maybe, Harry was right.

Harry was smiling at him. "See?"

Draco nodded. "I'm not entirely convinced I'm quite the same caliber of you or Longbottom, but-"

Harry waved away his concerns. "It's not a contest. There are many kinds of heroes. And I'm sure you'll agree that heroes get happy endings."

"Yes, they do at that..." Draco murmured, and this time when Harry kissed him he responded enthusiastically. He grabbed Harry around the waist and pulled him close. The Gryffindor winced, and Draco stepped away at once.

Harry's hand shot out to grasp Draco's and pull him half a step closer. "Sorry, just a little sore. Madam Pomfrey said I broke a few ribs."

"How did you manage that?"

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Er, well, apparently it isn't good to be crushed against someone's chest so tightly it hurts twice in the space of an hour."

Draco felt himself go pink. "So you're saying that _I _did- when I- I was trying to help!"

"Relax. They're all fixed up now, just tender."

"I guess I'm not cut out for this whole saving people thing after all... still only an almost hero," he sighed.

Harry squeezed his hand and kissed him softly. "Almost is more than good enough for me."

**Drarry shipper that I am, I was internally screaming at Draco to actually do that- come back for Harry. Alas, he didn't, but that's what fanfic is for.**

**Reviews would be amazingly lovely and whole-heartedly appreciated.**


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